“People who run illegal fights rarely operate alone. Somebody provides money. Somebody provides fighters. Somebody provides protection.”

Thomas nodded.

“Preston isn't the top.”

“No.”

Mara looked at Dmitri.

“Who owns the building?”

Dmitri answered.

“Property company.”

“Name?”

“Harrington Development.”

Mara exchanged a look with Thomas.

“Then we have a problem.”

The Hidden Ledger

Elena returned at dawn.

She carried a second drive.

“I found this in Preston's office.”

Thomas looked at it.

“Why did you go back?”

“To get it.”

“You could have been killed.”

“I know.”

Her voice was steady.

“I've been afraid for six months.”

Thomas looked at her.

“Why didn't you leave?”

Elena smiled sadly.

“My brother needs expensive medical treatment.”

Thomas understood.

Money was always part of the chain.

He opened the files.

Bank transfers.

Payments.

Shell companies.

Names.

One name appeared repeatedly.

Richard Harrington.

Dmitri sat down.

“No.”

Thomas kept scrolling.

Millions of dollars moved through various accounts.

Apex was receiving money.

But Apex was only a small part of the operation.

The largest payments went to private security firms.

Then to medical contractors.

Then to judges.

Then to politicians.

Mara whispered:

“This isn't a fight club.”

Thomas looked at her.

“What is it?”

“A laundering network.”

The illegal fights generated cash.

The money was then moved through businesses owned by Harrington.

The fights were only the visible part.

The real operation was hidden behind them.

Thomas stared at the screen.

“Why kill Marcus?”

Mara looked at the files.

“Maybe he saw something.”

Elena shook her head.

“Marcus wasn't the only one.”

Thomas looked at her.

“How many?”

“Seven.”

“Seven what?”

“Fighters who disappeared.”

Silence.

Thomas leaned back.

“Names.”

Elena gave them to him.

Thomas wrote each one down.

Then stopped.

One name was familiar.

Daniel Price.

His former military friend.

Thomas stared at the screen.

Daniel had disappeared five years ago.

The official explanation was suicide.

Thomas had never believed it.

Mara saw his face.

“You know him?”

Thomas nodded.

“He saved my life.”

The Trap

At 7:00 a.m., Thomas made a decision.

They would not wait for the police.

They would build a case.

They needed evidence connecting Richard Harrington to the illegal operation.

They needed proof that Preston knew.

And they needed to find out what had happened to the missing fighters.

Thomas knew where to begin.

The warehouse.

He had seen it in the videos.

They went there that night.

The building was empty.

But Thomas noticed tire tracks.

Fresh.

He followed them behind the warehouse.

There was a basement entrance.

Locked.

He opened it.

Inside were medical supplies.

Blood-stained towels.

Old fight posters.

And a wall covered with photographs.

Seven photographs.

Seven missing fighters.

Thomas stood in front of them.

At the bottom was a handwritten note.

THEY WERE ALL WARNED.

Mara whispered:

“Thomas.”

He turned.

She was looking at another photograph.

A man in military clothing.

Daniel Price.

Thomas stepped closer.

The photograph showed Daniel entering the warehouse.

The date was five years earlier.

The same year he supposedly died.

Thomas's hands began to shake.

Then a speaker crackled overhead.

A man's voice filled the room.

“Captain Decker.”

Thomas looked up.

Richard Harrington.

“You should have stayed invisible.”

Thomas stared at the camera.

Harrington continued.

“You were very good at disappearing.”

Thomas said nothing.

“You know what I admire about you?”

Thomas waited.

“You survived things that should have killed you.”

A pause.

“That makes you dangerous.”

The doors slammed shut.

Smoke began filling the room.

Mara shouted:

“Gas!”

Thomas grabbed Elena.

“Move!”

He found an emergency exit.

It was locked.

Smoke thickened.

Thomas looked at the door.

Then at Mara.

Then at the old instincts he had buried for six years.

He had two choices.

Again.

Run.

Or lead.

Thomas breathed deeply.

“Everyone behind me.”

Mara looked at him.

The old Captain was back.

“On my count.”

Thomas studied the door.

Three.

Two.

One.

He moved.

The Seven Names

Thomas drove his shoulder into the emergency door.

The first attempt failed.

The second bent the frame.

The third broke the lock.

Fresh air rushed inside.

They stumbled into the alley.

Elena collapsed against the wall.

Thomas checked her breathing.

“She'll be okay.”

Mara nodded.

Police sirens approached.

Thomas looked at the warehouse.

Someone had called them.

Not Harrington.

Someone else.

An officer stepped out of the cruiser.

“Captain Decker?”

Thomas froze.

The officer was an older man.

“Who are you?”

“Detective Samuel Ortiz.”

Thomas studied him.

Ortiz lowered his voice.

“I've been investigating Harrington for three years.”

Thomas looked at Mara.

Ortiz continued.

“You're not the first person who tried to expose him.”

“What happened to the others?”

Ortiz looked at the warehouse.

“They disappeared.”

Thomas asked:

“Daniel Price?”

Ortiz's expression changed.

“You knew Daniel?”

“He was my friend.”

Ortiz sighed.

“Daniel didn't kill himself.”

Thomas already knew.

“Then what happened?”

“He found the same operation.”

Ortiz opened a folder.

“Daniel survived an attack. He went into hiding.”

Thomas stared.

“Where is he?”

“We don't know.”

The Missing Seven

Ortiz explained that seven fighters had disappeared over the previous six years.

Officially, each case had a different explanation.

One had supposedly left the country.

One had overdosed.

One had died in a car accident.

Two were listed as runaways.

One was presumed dead.

Daniel had discovered that all seven had connections to Apex.

And all seven had competed in private fights organized by Preston.

Thomas looked at the photographs again.

“They're alive.”

Ortiz nodded.

“We believe at least four are.”

“Where?”

“That's what we're trying to find out.”

Thomas pointed to the warehouse.

“This isn't just where they fought.”

“No.”

“What is it?”

Ortiz hesitated.

“Some of them were used as debt collectors.”

Thomas's expression hardened.

“By Harrington?”

“Yes.”

The system was more complicated than anyone had realized.

Fighters who lost large amounts of money were trapped in debt.

Those who couldn't pay were forced to work for Harrington.

Threats.

Collections.

Illegal transport.

Violence.

The fighters became disposable muscle.

Those who resisted disappeared.

Thomas remembered his former life.

A chain of command.

Orders.

People at the top who never touched the consequences.

He hated that structure.

Because it looked familiar.

Preston's Mistake

Preston arrived at Apex the next morning expecting to find Thomas gone.

Instead, Thomas was mopping.

Preston stopped.

“What?”

Thomas looked up.

“Morning.”

Preston stared.

“You're still here?”

“Yes.”

“After last night?”

“Yes.”

Preston walked closer.

“You don't understand what you're involved in.”

Thomas leaned on the mop.

“Then explain it.”

Preston smiled.